


Fire exit - otherwise known as emergency butthole

by Replika (orphan_account)



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alien Sex, C137cest, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Random & Short, Rave, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Sexual Humor, Single POV, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Replika
Summary: So this is stuff that I was supposed to publish on Twitter but Twitter is a bitch and won't let me post long shit, so I was forced to post it here.Rick and Morty have developed that kind of camaraderie that allows them to have sex with different partners in the same room. That's nice, until Morty discovers he might be attracted to the wrong person in the room. And what's better than a rave party off-planet to get what you want?
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Don't bust my balls with that. I don't care if there are errors or shit. Shush. Just read and enjoy.

He'd never imagined that being fucked in the ass could be a thousand times more rewarding than dipping his wiener in the wet crack of some willing crush. Like, he had had his fair share of experiences thanks to Rick, being dragged along to variegated dimensions labeled with exotic names of genitalia had been the literal first step out of naiveté. And Hell, once or twice they had even fucked other people in the same room/field/car/whateverflatsurface mindless of each other. 

And that kind of bonding had been almost nice, the kind of bond Morty imagined he'd have had with a best friend...in a reality where he had friends. 

It started getting less comfortable and chummy when, someday, Morty became suddenly aware of Rick's grunts and moans; when they had started to override every other sound in the room. At first, Morty had dismissed the realization as a one-time happenstance. Rick had the bad habit to be loud and especially talkative during sex. However, that conviction had been short-lived. Sounds turned into full-fledged words, then strings of profanities capable of making the few baby hair on Morty's body stand up and his blood pump faster in the wrong direction. 

It worsened over time. A few weeks later it had become impossible for Morty to not seek real-time footage; which meant stealing glances of bony shoulder blades flexing like wings, fingers ravenously digging and pushing into dripping, engorged cunts, and his slick, hard cock slamming repeatedly on the same spot, extolling the wildest screams from the lover in charge. In and out, in and out. It made Morty bite his lips hard, it made his imagination run riot and wish, desire, CRAVE to be in her/his place. 

That growing fixation had been hard to hide from Rick. Or maybe… /maybe/ Morty wasn't hiding it at all and just trying desperately to be noticed? The "hoping for something to happen without moving a finger" was the only subject he truly seemed to excel at in and out of school, after all. 

Weeks turned into seasons and Morty found himself searching for every possible excuse to recreate a situation where he and Rick could fuck in the same room. Just by fall, and after full months spent spilling bitter, frustrated cum into random holes… just to imagine Rick on and in him, did Morty finally experience what the word 'reciprocity' entailed. 

Their destination had been set on a remote planetoid in the third galactic quadrant, a place that according to Rick was teeming with "horny fucks from all over" not only because it basically was a colossal rave party thrown all day every day, but because had the wildest selection of drugs like… ever. It wasn't a secret that if there was something Rick enjoyed more than trying to kill them on a hourly basis, was partying hard… and the hard part was not an option for whoever accompanied him. So, when Rick had casually mentioned his intention to take off /without Morty/ the kid had had to do double pikes of begging to convince the older kin to make room for the "annoying piece of shit" in his plans.

Just later, very much later, Morty understood why. As they set foot on the planet, a barbaric herd of pushers and random people assaulted them as if they were a shop during the Black Friday. Apparently, and Morty should have predicted it, Rick had a sort of VIP membership there. Morty was throttled around, pulled and bad touched repeatedly while his grandpa coolly stunned a couple of aliens and opened himself a path, leaving Morty behind as if he didn't exist. Like many other times, Morty found himself crawling back up on his wobbly legs, breathless and semi-naked, sputtering 'fuck yous' and 'go to hell' with the frequency of a machine gun. 

"If you're going to be a drag, for Christ's sake, go back in the fucking car and stay put for three days." Was all Morty received as a 'consolation' for basically being stepped on like a rug. But he was so used to unwelcome welcomes that limping towards their accomodation was not even the reason of his moodiness. It was being treated as a kid by the only person who never treated him as one. Like, what the fuck? Was it so bad that for once he was the one willing - WILLING - to tag along? Rick was always the one DRAGGING him into potential deadly situations and more than willing, if not even happy to have Morty with him. Right? 

Right?

Well, apparently not when he planned shit just for himself. He was fast to leave Morty behind when he wasn't needed. And usually Morty was SO HAPPY to be left to his own devices. Only a few months ago he would have regularly attended school to moon over Jessica… right… just... now his obsession had shifted in the worst possible direction. He followed without complains, staring at Rick's shoulders as if he could see through his lab coat. 

"U-uhm so…" a tiny, forced smile curled up his mouth "we-we're going to have fun… uh?" 

Rick grimaced and rolled his eyes, "d-u-h." 

"Am I even, e-even allowed to do drugs?" 

At that point it became sort of foregone that Morty was trying to attempt stupid small talk due to his growing stupid anxiety. Rick didn't even bother yelling at him this time.

"The only... only thing you're not allowed to do is to bust my balls with stupid questions. I'm not your parents, Morty. Have I ever been known for giving a fuck?" 

"No." Morty's dejected response was followed by the rapid slump of his scrawny shoulders. 

For some reason, Rick casually slowed his steps down and flanked him, Morty caught the sidelong tell-tale glance that his grandpa usually gave him before pointing out that whatever he was going to ask wasn't absolutely related to personal curiosity or worry or whatever might let on that he /cared/ in any way.

"YOU want to suddenly get high even though the same YOU would rather kill his whole family than touch a single speck of fractal dust becauseeeee…" 

Morty didn't pause to think about it. The response left his mouth as if unrolled by the very Obvious "because I want." The 'you' was carefully omitted by Morty's very much chicken side. 

Rick didn't seem satisfied with his response, in fact, he enigmatically quirked his brow, but added nothing else to a random "fair enough."

After all, the only way to have Rick was to do what Rick wanted… as usual.


	2. Chapter 2

Their "accommodation" ended up being a tent. A tent casually pitched amid nowhere among countless other tents that had the only purpose of shielding people having sex. Even if that purpose was defeated by the fact that those same people were fucking in the open with no care in the world. 

He was no stranger to watching. The only difference between this and porn was that the second had a screen. Their neighbors reminded Morty of blue, giant bacteria with long legs, when his gaze fell on them his head tilted curiously to determine which hole was which-- with no success. A moment later Rick's fingertip was on the side of Morty's head, pushing it to the other side. "If you're pretending to get what you see, at least look in the right direction, you moron."

Morty squeezed his eyes, still not comprehending where the head started or ended. They both had holes. All the holes were being filled at the same time. "H-How…" 

"Wanna fuck real puss or stare all the day to people who are about to spray you blind with fecal matter?"

Morty felt his skin prickly with goosebumps as Rick's finger opened flat on his palm and moved to his shoulder. But then, Rick's casual warning sank pretty much when the kid was already being pushed on the ground and the heinous screech of one of the bacteria-like people was followed by an angry drizzle of corrosive stuff. 

Morty landed on his back, feeling his jaw painfully connect with the ground as hard as concrete. Rick yelled something at the aliens, which in turn screamed back. After a brief exchange that Morty didn't understand, one of the bacterias _snailed_ in his tent and came back out, holding a transparent bag filled with candies. 

The kid ogled at the scene like a spectator watching a foreign movie without subtitles, and when Rick finally reunited with him merely jerked his head in the opposite direction. Morty blinked, stroked his stinging chin, and got to his feet. "W-What did they say---? And… what's that?!" He queried, stealing a glance at the mysterious bag. 

Rick shrugged. "Beats me. I didn't get shit off what the dude was mumbling, but if you want to know my guess he might have just paid you off. So this is yours." 

Morty caught the bag of "candies" that was unceremoniously thrown at him and grimaced at Rick, who, as usual, had just made him more confused than he already was. "So-sorry what?! Why? What… what did I do?"

"You had your first threesome. Congrats...ah no wait. It wasn't really..." 

"What?! How? I didn't do anything!"

"Andddd that's why I didn't want to bring you here, you ask too many questions, Morty. Relaaax. If you didn't feel it there's no point worrying about it." 

"That guy just paid me for sex in candies and squirted fucking acid at me, Rick!"

"First of all, those aren't… candies… but Bailbeads. Shitty quality. I can make better drugs from a booger. AND, yeah so what? You won't get space aids for giving them a whiff of oxytocin. They have sex sniffing that stuff from each other and you stood close enough to be their third man because you're turned on. Anyway, that's not 'acid'. It's cum… whiiiich happens to be their shit, too." 

"Ow, oh shit. Gross! Gross!" Even though it had not reached him, Morty instinctually rubbed inexistent dirt off of his arms and clenched his legs hard to try - and fail - to hide his sins. Could those things sniff out a boner out of people? He threw a sidelong glance at Rick, who was staring down at him like someone ready to bolt away at any second, hoping Morty would just drop dead there and don't follow. 

Piece of shit. 

At his wit's end, and with not much wit, to begin with, Morty shook the bag on his other hand and let the beads drop on his palm. He slapped the hand on his mouth and downed the drugs like a pro. 

If he anticipated any shadow of pride to cloud Rick's eyes, it never showed. On the contrary, the older man pinched his nose as if disgrace had befallen him. 

Morty felt his stomach somersault with nausea as soon as the beads rolled down his throat. It was bitter and had an aftertaste of chemicals. He bent over feeling the intense need to vomit, but Rick yanked him backward by his hair as fast. "Swallow it back." He commanded.

"I can't… it's ugh...I need to-"

"If you're idiot enough to ingest random crap, you're also idiot enough to take it like one. Swallow and walk." 

His throat was aflame with bile and his eyes watered hard, but Morty swallowed back… and walked.

\---

An hour later he felt happy like he had never been. A kind of fuzzy contentment had settled comfortably in the pit of his stomach, the world around had magnified with brighter colors and Morty felt like he was literally in love with everything that walked or breathed. His jaw was slack but twitched in a funny way that made Morty titter at each sway of his body. 

"R-Rick, I love you so much, s-so, so much. I wuv you." He wailed, attached to his grandfather's arm like a prolongation of the limb. 

"Yeah, yeah. Much love and all." Rick claimed his arm back, and Morty let go of it with ease, laughing at being brusquely shaken away.

The kid didn't remember how they ended up sitting on the ground there, in a circle with a lot of other people, mostly aliens, that were all passing around a long silly thing that produced smoke from the top. He didn't mind… or care… he felt content by just 'being' at all. It was a nice, so nice feeling like he could be anywhere and feel happy that he was just breathing. His lids felt heavy, but not with sleep, and the muscles of his mouth were tensed up into a sloppy, large smile. He felt hyper-focused but there, not somewhere else. Right where he belonged, next to Rick. 

The same man that was currently sticking his tongue into someone's mouth, a pretty mouth that looked like a butterfly to Morty. He stared, enraptured, at the languid and lazy exchange of fluids, at how, the cobalt flames of fire creeping from tall torches around them licked at Rick's hollow cheeks, making his ashen skin look even paler. 

Morty's attention was stolen away soon from a vagrant, manicured hand that landed on his thigh, and turned to look into a pair of deep onyx eyes encircled by long, fluttering see-through eyelashes. The creature in front of him was tiny and almost transparent, its whole body radiated light from the inner organs that sparkled like luminescent, versicoloured wires. He chuckled and moved a finger on the alien's bosom, puncturing their chest to stupidly check if he could touch what was beyond the skin. 

The alien, in response, surged forward and started to lap at Morty's neck like a friendly dog. He fell on his back, laughing, and the entity climbed on top of him. Long fingers extended like snail's antennae and trailed under his shirt with curiosity. Morty let out a moan. He was so, so sensitive that the barest touch sent spikes of pleasure up and down his spine. The alien was pretty. So bright. So… bright. "Will you come with me? I'm going to make you feel good." They spoke, and Morty didn't even flinch at that. He just laughed again. "I can understand you. That's fun." 

The alien kept moving under his chest, reaching one of his nipples, which it cupped and coated with fingers-drool. "I just learned your language by touching you." The alien purred. Pretty alien had such a pretty voice.

"That's so... cool. I want to feel good. Can you make me feel good? I'm so sad but also happy so… it's weird. I can't feel sadness but I know I am." 

"Yes, yes I can make you feel good. Is it sad good?" 

Was sad good? He didn't really know right now. It felt good. "I guess so?" He chuckled again, completely lost in his bubble of nonsense. "Where are you taking me?" At some point, they had both shifted comfortably, the alien touch felt like a mouth suckling on his nipple. Morty sighed contentedly.

"To my tent. Then to my planet. It's really beautiful you know? It's like my body but huge. You're human. I don't know humans. Where do you feel good?"

"I'm feeling good right now… here." Morty closed his eyes, smiling. 

The alien's voice quivered with pleasure as they started to rub against Morty's crotch. He curved his spine to meet with the rocking motion and his mouth opened to let out a slow hum. 

"Enjoying it, aren't ya, little slut?" 

Rick's voice crept close, deep and strained as if he had screamed for hours at the top of his lungs. Morty was too high and calm to jump at it, as he would have probably done in normal circumstances. He turned over the source of the question, finding Rick propped on his elbow and lying right next to him. Whatever he had smoked or snorted or swallowed had turned the white of his eyes pitch black. The only visible thing was the cold cerulean of his irises, which Morty could stare at forever just like that. "Mhmhhh…" his slothful response came with another clumsy smile, followed by a deep inhale and exhale.

Morty dared to move his gaze toward the current companion of his grandpa, that was working her mouth on his cock with apparent expertise. Yet, Rick didn't seem different than he was just a few hours ago. Probably it was due to his constant numbness, that one could barely tell the difference. Rick had shed the upper part of his clothing, and Morty's attention moved there, on the protruding collarbone, on every rib he could number. His hand followed, stretching out to reach the contour of the ribcage, so he could trace it as if it was a game. 

"Thanks for letting me come with you, Rick," he whispered low, between a sigh and another. The alien had moved south, one of their stretchy fingers latched around Morty's dick, and his eyes rolled back in his skull. 

"If you're grateful now, you'll worship me in a few." 

Morty wanted to point out that he was already worshiping him, but his mouth was too keen on reciting every single letter of the alphabet in a pitch that went far beyond his vocal range to bother talking anymore. His fingers hooked on Rick's skin, and nails dug in it, leaving there the nascent imprint of a scratch. 

Rick followed the motion in silence, as if entranced or bored by it. "Oh, please. You're so pathetic it hurts, Morty." He rolled his eyes, grabbing Morty's wrist so tight that it hurt. 

"S-sorry, I didn't mean t-" 

Whatever was to follow, Morty swallowed it down together with a knot of snot. The way Rick pulled him towards him made Morty's brain short-circuit, he didn't understand what was going on, but whatever it was, he had waited for it for months. Half of his body was bent at the strangest angle, but it really didn't matter anymore. His mouth opened to allow Rick immediate access, and Morty's tiny tongue struggled to keep the pace the other had settled. It convoluted up and around it fast and measured, like every leash of muscle was meant to make Morty drown in Rick's saliva. Now he made sounds. Sounds that pierced Morty's skull repeatedly, the same he had listened to so many times. It was like a whirry murmur mixed with wet pops and shlups. And God if he could come just with that. 

They separated to breathe again, and Rick's brow curled into a smattering comma on his forehead. "You still want to go off planet with that bag of amphetamines that's playing with your dick? Because banging that won't be that different from fucking the console of my car. And I /did/ fuck my car."

Morty felt confident enough to respond with a "what, jealous much?"

"Morty, I have an alien between my legs that's giving blowjobs like a pornstar. Don't fucking push your luck if you want what's in her lips in your ass." 

Morty smiled lazily, turned toward the alien and then to Rick again. "I can learn, wanna see?"

Rick finally gave him the kind of look that Morty had dreamed just in his wildest fantasies. The kind of look that morphed his features into those of a thirsty demon. "If you can't you're fucking the car and I'm watching."


End file.
